


In the Scope of All This

by creative_republic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cute, Destiel - Freeform, Fanfic, Fanfiction, Fluff, Gay, Lemon, M/M, Mildsmut, Pride, Smut, Supernatural - Freeform, Winchester - Freeform, boy/boy, castiel - Freeform, deanwinchester - Freeform, jimmynovak, samwinchester - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-06-23 01:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15594963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creative_republic/pseuds/creative_republic
Summary: "No, I bet you're just as smart,"I rolled my eyes."Probably not, though,""No?" I looked up at him in a goofy smile, and he shook his head"Why you say that?""The hot blonds are typically dumb,"Completely in Dean's perspective; first person.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [My dear friend of whom does not have an ao3 account](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=My+dear+friend+of+whom+does+not+have+an+ao3+account).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to my dear friend of whom does not have an AO3 account

  Three months.  
It had only been three months, and she had already started redecorating, showing me the different woods and color patterns; the size tablecloths and curtains she would buy.  
And she would talk, about family leave, as if she was not worried to go back to work.  
You would think for a woman her age that menopause would have some sort of say in all this, but there were no breaks. No sudden outcries where she would just throw down her arms and cry. She didn't even slow down; it was totally constant.  
  Even when her own son tried talking to her; he flew in after it happened, just a few days after. He arrived in Pittsburgh and she was more than enthusiastic to pick him up.  
He thought she wasn't sleeping, and of course was confused about her lack of emotions towards the whole thing. "Denial", as he put it.  
  And when I tried to talk to her, she listened, but it was just as if she wasn't exactly hearing me. Brushing it off as if it was just the daily morning news. 

  "I was actually the first one to break,"  
My therapist looked content, but he was tired and his eyes hooded.  
"Asked her all sorts of questions when she seemed nonchalant," I paused and he looked up at me, pen digging into his left chin.  
"Of course I didn't want to bombard her, but-" i just shook my head as if I were dumbfounded.  
"It's alright, Dean."  
"Is it?" I shifted slightly.  
"Loss of a loved one is one thing, but losing a kid?" I shook my head and ran a hand down my stomach.  
"People cope with things in different ways."  
"That's not coping, is it?" I almost laughed.  
"It could be."  
"Sam," I looked over and up at him, knowing he didn't really like me saying his name at work.  
He sighed and tapped the pen on his clipboard, unfolding his legs.  
"I don't know what you want me to say," he sounded tired and a little irritated. I turned away and shook my head.  
"It's just, people don't just leave stuff like that,"  
He wrote something down and I couldn't help but feel as though it was just nonsense.  
"And she won't even bring it up anymore; brushing it off. Not that I blame her, it's nobody's business but her own I guess," my voice trailed.  
"You're right, it's her own business. You should respect that." He spoke with a slightly angry tint in his voice.  
"And I do!" I looked back over at him and he seemed even more tired than before.  
"Then why have you been talking about her for the past three months?"  
"Because, sam, she lost a kid! You don't just get over shit like that. You can't just suppress it-" he shook his head.  
"I mean- look, I know I suppress a lot of shit, but nothing like that."  
"Well, Dean, you're not her."  
"Yeah, yeah- I know. People deal with things differently." I rubbed my temple.  
"Man, I remember the day that kid was born."  
Sam was quiet.  
"-Elise said she was the prettiest child," I almost laughed.  
"While her son was in the room, too. But it didn't really matter- he agreed."  
Sam wrote something else down.  
"-she dressed her up in this beautiful brown and pink dress."  
Sam looked up at me, and i saw him smile.  
"-took her shopping with aunt Ellen,"  
I shook my head.  
"She obviously loved that kid- and then acted like it was nothing to lose her."  
My right hand, under my head, was shifting slightly with pins and needles that I couldn't shake.  
"I know if it was my kid-" i shook my head, unable to answer.  
"I would be damn broken," Sam looked up  
"I'm sure she is,"  
I looked up at him.  
"Elise, I'm sure she's broken right now."  
"Yeah-denial. Adam told me all about it-" but Sam shook his head.  
"Not just denial, Dean."  
"I mean, I'm sure she's in that stage right now, but I'm sure she's also in some sort of shock." I looked up at him and hooded my own eyes.  
Sam looked up at the clock.  
"We could have talked about this sometime outside of work." He started and I shifted out of my seat, bringing the pins and needles to life and stinging my already-asleep fingers, attached to tired hands, which had red lines from the couch wrinkles around them.  
Sam stood up, and I could see the heavy, underlined bags, just right below his eyes.  
"You should sleep more often." He glanced down at me and the tips of his mouth trickled.  
"Haven't been able too."  
He held a gently-crushed paper cup under the water filter, that had been sitting there too long for me to even consider drinking from it.  
"Jess has been keeping me up all night," his voice cut off and he took a drink.  
"Yeah I can see how she's not taking it well either," I looked down.  
Jess, being Elise' sister and Sam's fiancé, came over to Elise' house the day it happened.  
She called me after calling Sam, and she sounded even more distraught than Elise on the phone.  
"None of us are." I looked up at him. He rolled his eyes.  
"Look, man, it's not like Elle is taking it especially easy here, alright," I shifted against the back of the couch and stood up.  
"I know." He looked at me as he took another drink, before crumpling the paper cup and throwing it in his empty trash can.  
"I just don't know if it's healthy for her to cope like this." My use of the word 'cope' was tentative, because I didn't want to use it. It wasn't coping, she wasn't crying in her own time. She was ruined. That child came into her life for only a short time.  
"My shift is over," Sam sighed and crossed his arms.  
"Do you want to get a drink or something?" He finally asked.  
"Can't."  
He purses his lips in a solemn attempt to pity with me.  
"Going over to Ellen's?"  
"Yeah. I think."  
He slowly nodded.  
"I won't bring up anything-" he shook his head and pushed open the door, but hesitated slightly.  
"Just-Yeah, don't bring up anything about Carla."  
Carla was the name of the girl. And it made my spine sting slightly just hearing it.  
"I won't."  
Sam looked over his shoulder at me slightly before leaving.  
He was the one who thought it would be a good idea, to have me as a patient. I still thought it was slightly awkward.


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to my dear friend of whom does not have an AO3 account

Adam gave Elise a few "self help" books, as Sam put it.  
Sam has been spending a lot of time over at Elise' house; mostly by Jess' doing.  
He's not upset about it, either. He actually told me that he found it somewhat "comforting," that he "liked the way they were so open with eachother".  
Which I didn't really understand, how he can be so accepting of Elise' continued nonchalance.  
Of course, I did go over to her house just after seeing Sam, that was four days ago, and nothing has really changed.  
I went to her house instead of Ellen's because I figured that is where Ellen would most likely be; and I was right. She was standing in the kitchen doorway, heavy, red rings under her eyes, which were bloodshot. I assumed she had not slept for weeks.  
Ellen is typically not the type of person to cry in desperate situations, but the night I went over to my sister-in-law's house, she broke down. And I didn't blame her, nobody did.  
And Adam held her while she did, and I couldn't do much of anything, other than sympathize with Ellen and Adam, and as much as I could with Elise.  
She didn't talk a lot while I was over there, and I couldn't tell if it was because I was somehow making her uncomfortable; although it would make sense. I can imagine her getting uncomfortable from my "pestering", although I considered it more of a loving gesture to get her to speak more.  
Adam called me a few hours after I left, told me some things about life and death that I suppose were supposed to come out sounding meaningful but in all honesty they just sounded like something you would read in one of those dreaded self-help books; which were now sitting in Sam's office, untouched.  
We spoke vaguely on the phone about Elise, and he told me random tidbits about what they were planning for Carla's funeral. Although I hate saying that name. It made my spine tingle; almost as though she hadn't been around long enough for me to ever use it.  
"Something small, just a few close friends but mostly family."  
I couldn't help but feel as if Elise' non-coping mechanism rubbed off a bit on Adam, in the way he spoke and sounded nearly enthused. Although it was better than feeling nothing at all I guess.  
My earphone was yanked from my ear during my run.  
I turned, quite inexplicably, and saw the familiar face, just a few inches from my own.  
I was sweaty, and my face was a dark shade of red, i backed up a foot from them.  
"Hey," I smiled shortly and looked down at my phone to pause the music, now blaring out to the world.  
"Jody," she smiled intently at me, and i put my hands on my hips, trying to catch my breath.  
"Intense run there?" She half-laughed and I followed by breathing harder in attempt to laugh.  
"I guess," she just stood there for a moment, before holding up my single earphone and handing it back to me.  
I had lived near Jody for about six years, prior to me moving to a house about seven blocks away from hers.  
She was sweet, and I cared for her a lot, especially because she was typically the one to comfort me in, well, situations somewhat like this one.  
She would bake pies and bring them to me all the time, and I would thank her and she would blush, profusely telling me how "terrible she is at cooking," and of course I would disagree. If it wasn't for her mother-like traits towards me I would dare say she had a minor-major, crush. Although she was no short a decade older than me, and although her husband was deceased, I doubt she would ever consider remarrying.  
"Hey, Dean," I looked down, and noticed she was carrying mail in one hand, keys in the other. She also looked quite tired. I noticed that a lot frequently now; not just with her, but with other people too; people on Sam's side of the family, of course, but on my side as well. Even people who had never even heard of Carla. As if her passing had affected the lives of people who didn't even know her.  
"What are you doing all the way on this side of town?" I finally asked, even though I knew the answer, just to break the silence. And she held up the handful of a wrinkled envelope and various papers. One in particular, she took out of her hand and in a disheveled attempt to unwrinkle it, showed me.  
"What's that," I squinted my eyes at it.  
"Eviction notice," she sighed heavily and my spine shivered.  
"Oh, shit," I whispered suddenly.  
"Jody, I had no idea," she ran a hand through her hair and kind of half smiled, as she does when she gets uncomfortable.  
I looked down at my phone and realized how late it was, especially if I was planning on going to Sam's, which I kind of was.  
"Do you want to come over, talk?" I asked softly, still sweating profusely, as she was right; it had been a long, hefty run.  
"Can't," she sighed.  
"Haven't called Claire yet.. Alex is the only other one who knows."  
I stared at her for a moment, before twitching my mouth downward and looking at the ground.  
"I have to go," she rubbed the back of her neck.  
"I'll call you," I finally spoke. She smiled and kind of rushed away.  
I watched her leave.  
With all these new apartment complexes coming in, it felt as though there should be no need for eviction; especially with someone like Jody, who's lived there as long as she has.  
Although I almost felt as though this was some sort of sign; of moving on I guess. It sounded cheesy, just thinking it over, like something written in one of those god-awful self help books, but I couldn't help feeling as though it was something like that; that Jody leaving- someone I had known for so damn long, was some sort of sign that I should move on with my life; make a discreet disappearance, and just accept the fact that Elise, although being the one to birth this beautiful child, was having less of a problem forgetting about her and moving on than her own sister was.  
I started to feel ill, walking down my normal route.  
I wasn't going to see Sam, even though I typically did, Fridays and Mondays were the days I saw my brother, and I usually looked forward to them; I guess I just didn't feel like seeing the swollen bags under his eyes from lack of sleep and presumably staying up with Jess, hearing her cry because she can't forget the light hazel of Carla's eyes, or the coarse tinge in Ellen's voice, talking about her niece.  
Or just the solemness in my brother's voice, how he spoke quietly as if it stung to raise his voice.  
It was when I reached Grants pass, or as Sam called it when he was young, "Grants Pants", that I turned around and started walking back.  
I chuckled a bit at the memory, though it almost stung; the feeling of young Sammy by my side, and hearing the sweet voice crack when he laughed; it was things like this that made me so sure that Elise' whole "coping mechanism" was a facade; that she really was broken inside. How could you have this glorious child, feel it move inside you for nine months, hear the soft sound of her voice for the first time, and not fall instantly in love.  
Maybe it was some sort of brotherly love type of thing; as to where I was kind of forced into loving Sammy, though it didn't feel like it.  
My father, although overall a good person, was not around as much as I would have liked him to be as a child. Thinking back on it almost convinces me that he, in fact, was not a good father. However, it is covered by the fact that I had an alright childhood, despite playing the roll of my father more than half of the time with Sammy.  
My legs burned from running so far, I had gone past my typical route by quite a few kilometers.  
And when I knew that when I got back to my house, I would have that same lingering guilt, almost an empty feeling. I guess just thinking about my childhood makes me miss having someone always there with me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to my dear friend of whom does not have an AO3 account

I was the one who had to deal with unsatisfied customers; a tech support representative, if you will.  
Even though Sammy was the one who typically did well in school, I got by, and as much as I despise saying it, admittedly, I was a pretty smart kid. Not saying that followed me anywhere in life; I never ended up following my dreams and going to Stanford; my little brother actually took me up on that "advice".   
I was actually pretty upset with him for a long time, we stopped talking after he left for the school in New York, it was only four years ago we started talking again. And of course he moved back to Oregon after getting accepted for a job here. Pretty lucky, I always taunted him for missing me and coming back to this shitty state instead of finding a much better job in the big apple.  
Nonetheless, I still loved my little brother to death, and visited him whenever I had the time. Not that he especially appreciated me showing up unexpected at his work, he was always charming about it; giving me a pat on the back as compensation for a hug, and we would go out for coffee, something.  
I arrived a bit late, waiting for my phone to charge enough to where it wouldn't die halfway through the day, and then I called Jody in the car.  
"I actually wasn't expecting you to call," she sounded a little stressed and I furrowed my brows at the boldness.  
"Why not?" I almost laughed in rhetor.  
"Just figured you'd have more on your hands to deal with," she sighed slightly.  
"What would that be?"  
"Sam called yesterday."  
"Oh."  
"-told me the jist of what was happening. Dean I am so sorry."  
"Don't apologize, Jody," I shook my head as I took a sharp right turn. Down the intersection that crossed the therapy office Sam worked at.  
"I had no idea, I'm sorry I wasn't there,"   
"Jody, I never told you because I didn't want you to stress," she sighed loudly on the phone   
"I wish you would have told me, so that I didn't bombard you with my being evicted."  
"Jody- no, I'm the one who should be there for you now."  
"Dean,"  
"I'm serious. You're always there for me, so what justifies me going to work today?"  
"Dean. Don't come over." I hesitated a moment.  
"I have company, actually. Remember, I told you my mother was coming,"  
"Oh," I couldn't help feeling a bit disappointed. Jody hadn't seen her mother in quite a while; a couple years. She only came to her apartment now because Jody had lived there so damn long.  
"After work, then?" I finally asked.  
"That would be nice." I kind of half-smiled. Even though I was postponing my seeing Sam even longer than anticipated.   
"Hey, when did Sam call you?"  
"Yesterday,"  
"Yeah, but I mean why? What did he say?"  
She sighed softly.  
"Just-about Carla. Sorry, he told me about your sister-in-law."  
"Yeah. Alright Jody."  
"I'll call you when you get off... three?"  
"Yep. See you then."  
Despite Jody being the type of person to be around me a lot; the type of person of whom I would call when I wasn't bothered to deal with something on my own, or I wouldn't even tell her and she would show up anyway, knowing instantly that something was wrong.  
I guess she always had that type of motherly connection with me, which was nice considering my lack of.   
The parking spot I typically used for work was segregated from everyone else', and I didn't really talk to a lot of my coworkers, never really thought it was worth the time.  
I guess I had that type of mentality in school as well; considering my total lack of a social life.  
Work was what it always is; seeing the same people I always do, brief nods of heads and incoherent smiling. People I've never even talked to.  
And my computer, which was clean and empty; I was never the type to decorate my desk, or anything really for that matter. The girl who sat next to me did, though, and coincidentally, she was also the only person I really talked to. Not outside of work, but we would share a decent conversation now and then.   
And she kind of suspected I was depressed, that was actually one of the first questions she ever asked me. She is a very open person.  
The thing is though, I never understood what to answer. Am I depressed? Sam sure thought so, but then again, Sam had known what my childhood was like, therefore thinking I was suppressing something more than I really was.   
About crying last night, that was over stress.   
And sure, sometimes I do cry, but I don't see it as anything other than expressing of emotions. To me, crying could be laughing for all I care. I would just rather not do it in front of people. Ironic, considering my father did well to convince me it was something you should never do; hide from everyone.  
"Hey," she swiveled in her chair over to me.  
I smiled shortly and waited for the monitor to boot up.  
"You alright?" It was something she normally asked, but I guess I understood why she was asking it this time. Bags under my eyes, lack of enough sleep, stress was definitely a contender to that.  
"Yeah," I sighed and typed in my password. It was different for everyone, but we worked in different branches so it didn't matter to either of us if we knew eachother's.  
"You sure?" She scooted a bit closer and I pursed my lips.  
"Tired, but yes."  
"You look tired." I rolled my eyes.  
"So what? Not sleeping?" My computer finally opened it's homescreen and I turned to look at her.  
The girl in question, was Charlie. Not sure what her last name is, but I didn't bother to ask.   
Her bright, firetruck red hair is what caught me, and she smiled when she caught me staring. Smiling as if she knew me from somewhere. Introduced herself and turned out to be a total nerd, more so than my own brother. We hit it off anyway.  
"Are you going to the gala tonight?"  
"I totally forgot,"  
The gala was an event that took place every year. Google held it and typically, numerous celebrities showed up.   
Of course, there were different ones taking place all over the states, the biggest one being in LA, and since Oregon was not a popular meeting place for fans and celebrities alike, they were usually only local.   
Lucky for us, though, one of the major celebrities showing up was Mr Google himself. Larry Page.  
Charlie spun around in her chair.   
"You know Larry's gonna be there."  
"Larry?" Playing ignorance was easier with Charlie a lot of the time.  
"Page." She looked at me as if I were dumb, but smiled. Charlie was gay, and outright about it, too. One of the first things she ever told me. But she took a liking to me for some reason.  
"I can't," I finally said with a sigh, opening up the few documents I had left from last week.  
"I'm going."  
"Tell me how it was."  
"You should come for yourself."  
"I have a thing with Sam today," partially true.  
"Get Sam to come too, it could be fun. You always talk about the guy being a massive nerd," she scoffed  
"I'm sure he'd love it, but-"  
"What?"  
"Work. He has a select few patience that typically require-well, extra care."   
She rolled her eyes again and watched me type away.  
"Alright, well." She stopped rolling and grabbed onto her table, glancing over to her screen.  
"I'll tell you about it, then." We shared a quick smile before she scooted off to her desk, which was four desks away from mine, but three people sat between us.  
"But hey," she stopped and came back, and I stopped typing to look up at her.  
"Dang, you really didn't get a lot of sleep last night, did you?" I rolled my eyes and scoffed.  
"Do you wanna like, do something this week or next?" I rolled my tongue over dry lips and sighed softly.  
"I don't know, I have a lot of-" I hesitated momentarily.  
"Family problems, I guess I should call it."  
"Family always nips you in the back," she finally paused with a sigh before going back to her desk, and around Jeremy, who was now seated and starting to boot up his ridiculous dial up; which until last month, had been sitting in the conference room as a decoration piece. That was until Jeremy, the new IT guy, was hired and the normal computers our boss had ordered had yet to arrive. And Jeremy, being the person with the most Star Trek figures lingering around his desk, you'd almost expect him to sneak the giant box of a computer from the conference room and onto his already over-crowded desk. Of course I was going to make fun of the guy.  
What Charlie said, about how family "always nips you in the back", although I did not entirely agree with, stuck with me for a while. The rest of the day I kept wondering what so horrible could have happened in that kid's life to make her feel that way.  
The day went on, and at the end of my period, and what I presumed was Charlie's, I stopped her walking to lunch.   
"Is that really how you feel about your family?" I asked during lunch, outside and ontop of the short building, where she liked to sit by the edge and dangle her legs.  
She sighed and tilted her head a bit.  
"About the thing you said, 'family always nipping you in the back'"  
"I guess, kind of." She shook her head and drank from the bright pink thermos, of which I had seen so many times and yet still cringed at it.  
"You know, my mom-" she gestured her hand and I gently nodded.  
"But my dad was never super supportive over me."  
"Oh."  
"Yeah- and it really sucked because you know- after she," she took another drink to ditch away from talking about her again.  
"Yeah," I retorted and looked down at my lap, and crossed legs. I always felt uncomfortable dangling my legs over the edge. Even though I knew Charlie would never push me. She had no motive.  
"Well, after that- he just kind of left. After saying-promising, me and my mother that he would never leave this family."  
She shook her head.  
"Charlie, it's alright you don't have to-"  
"It's fine, really. Better to talk about it." She stopped halfway through the sentence to take yet another drink, obviously just to ditch saying things at this point.  
"And I have. Child psychologists, shit like that."  
"I can imagine,-" I stopped myself, flustered.  
"I'm sorry-"  
"It's fine," she chuckled and barely shook her head.  
"Got into the whole emo thing, actually, kind of bragged about having problems." She laughed and drank.  
I looked down at her thermos and she lifted it.  
"Vodka. Drink?" I stared at her and started to laugh and shake my head.  
"No-no,"  
She shrugged and drank again, and I watched her.  
"Drinking at work is where we are now?" she shrugged again and put the cap on tight, setting it next to her.  
"Not a big deal."  
I shook my head.  
"Besides. Keeps me awake better than coffee anyway."  
"Surprised you don't have liquor breath." She scoffed and pushed me, which made me immediately flinch.  
"Sorry," she laughed and I laughed, standing up and moving away from the edge.

I met with Jody, and to say she was stressed would be an understatement.  
My job ended just a half an hour after her mom left, and apparently lectured her on bills and getting a higher-paying job.  
But she was still Jody, still had her same sense of humor, which to a lot of people may seem dull and unexciting, but was plenty enthusiastic and skeptical enough for me.  
And- of course she did not bring up the whole, talk with Sam on the phone, thing. Obviously knowing how I felt about it, she didn't want to push me any further I guess.  
Sam didn't call all day, which I found strange but not strange enough for me to call him back. Sam was a great brother and my best friend, but I'd be damned to say he wasn't irritable when he was stressed. And he was.  
Constant bugging from your fiance can do that to you, I guess. But they got along well enough; considering Sam talked about Jess ninety-nine point nine percent of the time. It was cute though. Nice to know that over everything going on, at least my brother would be happy after it all. Despite being stressed now, we all get over it eventually.


	4. Chapter 4

Redundancy was always something I was afraid of.  
And it felt as though that was something happening now.   
Not just with Elise, and her lack of any feeling towards her daughter's death, but the feeling that I'm just moving through the motions, just kind of coming and going with everything, not really feeling anything sanely.  
I left Jody's house exhausted, but somehow couldn't sleep that night.  
Standing in my room's doorway, holding a bottle of half-drunken gin, it felt as though I was unwelcome in my own house.  
And the tear stain from that morning was no longer there, my bed sheets a mess, almost to mimic the idea that there was someone there with me that night.  
And I think that's what I want now, someone to be there with me, to somehow convince me of my importance in their own life, justifying my own competence. To alleviate the feeling of being redundant.  
I kicked at wrinkles in my rug, and felt like a moron for needing that sort of justification from others. And I was, I shouldn't need someone else to tell me about my importance, my brother already always did that. And besides, I was never the type of person to want anything serious with anybody; relationship wise atleast.  
And yet here I was, drowning in my own self-pity.  
I felt like an obnoxious school girl, like one of those shit romance movies where a girl meets some pretty boy and all her problems go away.   
Only this time it was an obnoxious twenty six year old, living in the shitty side of Beaverton and drinking shitty gin out of a fucking Jack Daniels bottle.  
My eyes were bloodshot when I looked at them in the mirror. I was still wearing the shirt from yesterday, and it flattered my drip-stained mirror.  
My phone was not ridden with missed calls, only a single text from my brother asking if I wanted to go out sometime today.   
Which I did not want to, nor was I emotionally stable enough to.  
God, I felt pathetic, probably looked like it too.  
This wasn't uncommon; the feeling of wanting someone beside me, to just hold on to, however the craving of laughing next to someone, trusting someone enough to spill myself onto, was in fact new.  
I put on some pants and grabbed my keys.

Half past nine, that was the time of day it was. And I had a missed call from Sam, and two unresponded-to text messages, of which I had ignored.   
One of them said something along the lines of "I missed you today," and the other one was just a png of him at a pub with, who I'm assuming is Jordan. I've never actually talked to her in person, but Sam spoke highly of her. Said she went by Jo.  
The inside of my car was cold, even with the heat on, and my hand was twitching on the steering wheel, as if I was doing something scandalous, which I was not. Necessarily.  
The reception for Carla was tomorrow, and I knew I had to fix my act by then, not really wanting to break. Not over the death of a child, although I suppose that could be a good reason, but from all the pressure. The, what I presume will be, crying people in all those rose of chairs; having to sit through the sociopathic-like, calm mother of this dead infant, spread her child's ashes out in the courtyard of this church. Just morbid. And I did not want to be the one to break during all of this.  
Sam, if anyone, was usually the one to break during that. And his fiance, of course, was more of the emotional type.  
I always liked driving late at night; although it was barely past ten now, and my face was still pale white from staying in all day.  
I almost smiled at the seemingly dark moonlight, and large open fields of which it shown down upon.   
I sped up in my car, and felt the momentary high of it all.   
And I almost felt alright for a minute, the best I had all week.  
My heart pounded for a few seconds, and my tongue found a comfortable place just underneath almost closed teeth, my pupils dilated at the sudden rush, but that was it.  
I soon stopped the car in one of those open fields, and got out.  
Of course it was cold, and I wrapped arms around the torn zeppelin shirt I had on, but my bare feet were no help, and got wet from grass.  
I was by no means a spiritual person, in any sense, but it felt nice to go out and stare at the moon, or stars if I could see any.  
I was going to have to go home and face that half-empty bottle of gin, and the ugly stains on my carpet, the hideous body odor stink of my house.  
And then I would have to wake up the next morning and go to a reception, filled with sad, crying adults, and Sam and Jess, and make up some excuse as to why I didn't message back Sam.  
"Hey, sorry couldn't make it today. Home sick, see you tomorrow." I texted sheepish and tired, and pressed send.  
The feeling was back and although less brutal than before, it still felt.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to my dear friend of whom does not have an AO3 account

The alarm that I set last night went off later than it should have, or atleast it seemed that way.  
In retrospect, I probably should have known better than to only give myself an hour to get up and dress, but it was different yesterday, I went to bed drunk.  
Now it was just the concept of waking up, actually standing and opening my bedroom door that gave me stomach cramps and anxiety.  
The bottle of Jack I left in the bathroom smelled from my room, and I yanked the sheets off my bed to wash, thinking that would somehow compensate for me not wanting to go into the bathroom and face the mess I had made.  
But I ended up doing so, and seeing the bottle tipped on its side, now permanent stains on my mirror from spit mouthwash and, alcohol I guess. It smelled terrible nonetheless.  
The memorial wasn't formal, although there was a spreading of ashes and it did take place in a small church near where my step-sister lived, so I wanted to dress atleast somewhat nice.  
Sam and I were never religious, our dad neither. I suppose that was something I could be angry at him for; it could have made it a lot easier on both me and Sammy if we had some sort of direction in our lives; something to fall back on.  
With me, barely making enough money as it was, and dad typically off gambling, or at a bar, he left me a bit of money but just enough for food. And even then, I spent it all on Sammy.  
I just feel like it could have been easier if I had gone to church; had someone to talk to. Some sort of hope.  
Nonetheless, cold water felt nice on my skin, and I somehow remembered an old pair of black pants I had in my dresser from my high school graduation. They were probably too short, and wrinkled all to hell, but I wasn't about to wear torn blue jeans to a memorial gathering.  
I got a call at about eight-thirty-four, which was right around the time I was going to leave. It was Sam, asking if I was alright, and when I opened my phone to answer I noticed a message from Jody, also asking if I was going to be okay, and it felt encouraging to know I had people who, well, thought of me.  
"Yeah, I'm just leaving now," I spoke hoarsely apparently, because Sam sighed.  
"You've been drinking,"   
"Not this morning," I picked up the keys I just dropped.  
"You just dropped your keys. dean, you've been drinking." I smiled shortly and shook my head.  
"Promise you, I have not." He sighed and I could just picture him giving Jess some sort of pitiful sigh.  
"Do you want me to pick you up-"  
"No, Sam, I can drive. Haven't been drinking, just last night. Besides, you went to a bar, shouldn't I be asking you if you're alright to drive?" He laughed sort of solemnly.  
"Yeah, okay." There was a pause and I heard a car door shut.  
"I'll see you there. You better not be wasted and wearing stained clothes."   
"I won't."  
"Alright." He hung up and I shut my door.  
There were a couple empty cans on my dash and I brushed them out the way.  
The sky was almost a shade of orange, seeing as how much smoke had arrogated the whole state at this point.  
Forest fires coming down from California, I suppose, but for the amount there was in the air I felt like I should be wearing a dust mask.  
There were two large Uhauls in front of Jody's house, and I saw a woman I recognized as her mother loading cardboard boxes into one of them, the other one Jody was sitting in the back of.  
"Hey," I slowed down and pulled my car aside, grabbing the attention of her mother, who I never really had the same loathing for as Jody so very obviously did.  
She stopped unpacking to pull the cigarette she was dragging on out of her mouth and place hands on her hips, as if she were about to spout something, but Jody came up beside her almost immediately and looked at her, then came up to me.  
She was kind of sweaty, and leaned her forearms on my rolled-down window.  
"Leaving, huh?"  
"Yeah, almost." She seemed calm, sort of relieved.  
"You seem...alright?" I kind of squinted my eyes at the seemingly harsh sun, although it was probably normal light to most.  
"Yeah, I don't know, just been okay the last couple days." I half-smiled and looked down at the empty beer cans that resigned on my car's carpet.  
"So, uhh, hey," she picked her head up and sighed slightly.  
"How are you? You're all dressed up,"  
"Yeah, heading off to a, well a memorial, actually."  
"Oh."  
"Yeah, it's not formal but," I kind of trailed off.  
"I'm sorry."  
"Nah. Don't be, I've been alright too, actually." I rubbed the back of my neck with my forearm, and the smell of death filled beer-stained air.  
"I was gonna call you yesterday," she hesitated.   
"I was actually gonna call your brother," I looked up at her.  
"..to see how you were doing,"  
"Jody," I kind of smirked.  
"I'm fine. Really."  
"Alright," she seemed a bit tired, but less than usual. She lifted her arms off the car, leaving behind a slight drench of sweat.  
"I'll call you afterward, might be pretty late though," she smiled with squinted eyes from the sun, now gleaming on her face.   
She waved, and I lifted my index finger in a wave, and her mother walked over as soon as I drove off, watching her from my rear view.  
The radio was too quiet to hear anything, but I was typically a pretty anxious driver so it helped to not have any distractions.  
But the mess Sam had left me with; his consistent thinking about my well-being, and knowing damn well that I was, in fact, not doing as fine as I let see, was still stuck in the back of my head and interrupting my concentration.  
I guess I probably should have said something to him, whilst on the phone. Something about how well I've been doing; to stop his constant worry, but to be honest, besides this, there was really nothing going on in my life.  
I didn't go to that party for work, and Charlie never called me after, which in retrospect I guess should have been a red flag for me, but Charlie was never super consistent in her keeping-up-with-Dean saga. Although, I guess we're less comrades and more just coworkers; despite her need to tell me such personal qualities about her life. Night before last included.

My car was running low, and I drove by a number of gas stations, none of which I thought about stopping at.  
Which was a mistake.  
About forty or so miles down one of the vigorous highways, that damned red light flashed on my dashboard, and my car started buzzing and tumbling. No black smoke or what was considered normal for a car my age, just lack of gas. I pulled over to the side of the road and heavily hesitated to get out.   
I of course didn't want people slowing down and staring, or God forbid someone offer to help.   
My first, and I guess smartest instinct was to call Sam; which I did.  
"Hey," he picked up in a rushed tone.  
"Sammy, I'm gonna be late," he sort of sighed and I heard his car door slam. Guess I didn't realize how fast the guy could drive, it seemed like he had only left an hour ago.  
"Are you already there?" My heart started pounding and he must have heard the worry in my voice from his retaliation.   
"No, no, we stopped for gas." I rolled my eyes.  
"Guess I should have done the same."  
"Care trouble? I can come get you-"  
"No, Sam, it's fine. I'll call triple A, it'll be fine." I saw someone pull over to the other side of the road out the corner of my eye, and looked in their direction.  
"You sure?"  
"Yeah," I sort of stumbled when I saw that aforementioned person step out their car, and look directly at mine.  
"I've gotta go."  
"Alright, well I'll see you-"  
"10, yeah I'll see you at ten." I hung up, and watched as the stranger rushedly looked both directions at the light, yet hectic traffic. Lot of bad drivers in this state, I suppose.  
"Hey," I heard him yell, muffled by my closed doors, and noticed he was also, relatively dressed up.  
My heart beat a bit fast, and I rolled down my window half way.  
"Hey," he said normally this time, squinting his eyes at me.   
He was handsome, and I normally didn't say that about people, but this guy was an exception. Slightly shorter than me, dark brown hair, that was messy, from either lack of product or just being outside, and his face a slight tinge of pink, warping around his chiseled chin.  
"You gonna get out?" He was a bit out of breath but still managed to sound happy and laughed slightly.  
I didn't really want to, but also didn't want to be awkward so opened the door and reluctantly stood. He looked at my car, then back at me.  
"Are you drunk?" He sort of laughed when he spoke, and I contorted my head, furrowing my brows, then he looked inside my car, and I bit my tongue.   
"No, no,'' I laughed and crossed my arms.  
"No, just car troubles. I'm fine," he shook his head and walked up closer to the car, completely disregardful of any basic human spacial traits, and I backed up when he slightly elbowed me.  
"Gas?" He turned his head, and if I hadnt backed up I swear I could have felt his breath.  
"Yeah-yeah." I looked a bit bashful, but he didn't seem to notice and just looked back at his car, then at mine.  
"I'm fine, though. Already called triple A," he smiled slightly and looked at me, and I swear I felt a shiver. This guy knew what the hell he was doing, whatever it was.  
"Really?" I slightly nodded.  
"Because I'm on call for triple A, and we haven't gotten a single call in this area for about four days," I slightly blushed and he smiled, then looked back at his car.  
"It's fine. I have some stuff in my trunk." Car trunk, Dean, car trunk.  
He looked both ways at the traffic, and I watched him do so, then run across again.  
I typically wasn't one to care about looking filthy in public, and that wasn't really a problem, because I was dressed fairly nice today, but this guy made my heart beat in a way it hasn't since high school. This guy was, in other words, some sort of special.  
I didn't even notice him run back across, but here he was. Red gas bucket in hand, opening the gas cap to my car, and refilling it.   
He looked at me, whilst doing it too.  
"Where you headed?" I stopped, and sort of gathered myself.  
"Uhh, why?" Was the best answer.  
"Nothing, just. You look worried."  
I pursed my lips and looked down.  
"A uhh, memorial type thing." 'Memorial type thing.' Fucking moronic.  
He stopped, and cocked his head, then dug his phone out his pocket, as I stared at the gas pump, worrying it would overflow.  
He pulled it out and set it on the floor, letting a bit spatter out the top and land on the concrete around my back wheel.  
He showed me a picture on his phone and I almost jumped back.  
"What?," I sort of stumbled,  
"Uhh, yeah, that's-" he nodded and sort of smiled.  
"You know Elise?"  
"Yeah, yeah we were good friends in college,"  
I looked at my feet and could feel his eyes digging into the top of my head.  
"Alright, well," he pushed my gas cap back on, and then battled between his tip toes and heels.  
"If we're going to the same place," he gestured towards his car, across the street.  
"I'm not too familiar with the area," he spoke finally, and I looked at his squinted eyes. He sure did have a way for fucking with people.  
"You could follow me, I guess," I glanced down at inside my car.  
"That is, assuming you are not intoxicated. He smiled jokingly, but my heart jolted nonetheless.  
"No, no, those are from. Last night."  
"Ahh."  
There was a slightly awkward pause, before he gestured to his car, and I nodded.  
He started to run, before I noticed his gas can, picked it up, and stopped him.  
"Hey,"  
"Oh, shit yeah thanks. Sorry,"   
I got in my car and gathered myself.  
We were both going to the same memorial. He only knew Elise from college. Not even familiar with the area.  
Coincidence? I was heavily unsure.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to my dear friend of whom does not have an AO3 account

I, we, arrived about thirty minutes behind scedule.  
But Sam came up to me, in a tall, tailored suit, giving me a half-assed pitiful smile and put his arm around the back of my neck.  
"Who's this?" He finally asked, after realizing the shorter man behind me, who disregarded Sam, and went right over to Elise.  
It seems he was expecting more from a mourning mother, but Elise had no tear-stained eyes, or even slight pity in her face. In fact, she smiled when she saw him, and went right in for a hug, calling him "dear" as she did so.  
"Uhh," I realized Sam was staring at me.  
"Car troubles, remember? Yeah, he helped me out with that, and it turned out we were going to the same place."  
Sam must have noticed the unsteadiness in my voice, because he nodded sort of awkwardly.  
"Alright, well." He looked over at the two of them.  
"Elise seems, well, glad I guess. To see him."  
"Yeah." I fiddled with the ends of my blazer's sleeves, and Sam looked down at me.  
"You alright?"  
"Fine," I smiled shortly, before looking over Sam, and at a small table; a large, silver urn sitting ontop of it.  
"She didn't want anything special-" Sam started, and I nodded, then walking over to it.  
I recognized about half the people, the other quarter only vaguely, and the rest lost to me.  
Jess was sitting in an Aisle, which had a cardstock piece of paper, my name written in it.  
Of course, I didn't know the kid well enough to say anything, really, but I gently touched the edge of the tableclothed table.  
There was someone standing behind me, and it wasn't Sam.  
"You know her?" I heard the man speak, and it sort of startled me.  
"No, no not really," he parted his lips and stood beside me.  
"Yeah. Me neither. Not really." He looked up at me, and his eyes felt too bright to actually look into.  
"You knew Elise from high school?" I finally asked, desperate to change the subject.  
"Yeah," he sighed and looked down at the urn.  
"We uhh, were good friends back then."  
I nodded.  
It was silent, besides the soft chatter of people, and a very soft radio playing what-seemed-to-be music, but it was too cackly and quiet to hear well enough, and the man stood close beside me, both hands gently leaning on the clothed table.  
"Is she alright?" He finally broke the silence.  
"I mean, mourning I know but-"  
"Yeah," I cleared my throat and glanced behind me  
"Yeah, she's been acting like that the whole time."  
He nodded slowly and stared at her. She was sitting beside Adam, and next to him Ellen, who did not look nearly as pleased.  
"My brother says it's a sort of coping mechanism."  
The sides of his lips slowly moved up.  
"Your brother,"  
"The tall one, there," I pointed him out, standing by a container of filtered water, next to Jess, who was wiping tears from her eyes as she spoke quietly to another woman, I recognized as a girl Ellen used to babysit. A family friend if you will.  
"Ah," he stopped and looked at me.  
"Only family?" I slyly licked my dry lips and looked at my feet.  
"No my-" I paused for a moment, hearing someone, Elise, laugh, the man turned too, and he kind of almost glared at her.  
"Father, he didn't know Sam's side very well."  
The man nodded but didn't look away, before turning to me and slightly smiling, then walking over to Elise, who just smiled pointedly at him.  
I didn't realize Sam, who was standing next to me, seemingly the entire time. It startled me; only a minute ago he was standing by the water dispenser.  
"He seems nice," I almost jumped, and then shook my head.  
"Or something," I retorted softly, and Sam gently ran his hand over the soft linen tablecloth.  
He took a sip of water and kept staring at me, forcing me too stare back.  
"What?"  
"You're doing that thing,"  
"What thing."  
"That thing you do when you like someone."  
"Are you twelve?" He rolled his eyes, but continued staring at me.  
"Your face is even red," he half-smiled.  
"We're at a fucking funeral, come on."  
"Would it be any better if you weren't at a funeral?" I shook my head and lightly pushed him.  
"You should comfort your wife," I remarked and he kind of smiled, then pulled something out from his blazer, which made me try not to laugh.  
"Sam," I yelled in a whisper, but he pulled the cap off and took a light swig.  
"She's sweet," he retorted,  
"..but not when she's mourning," I smiled and shook my head, watching my little brother warp away to see his crying girlfriend.  
Elise was talking about something, renovating her voice I presumed, and the man saw me, and we made eye contact briefly as I walked by.  
I sat in the row in front of the one adjacent to them, and could hear most of their scintillating conversation about Elise' enthusiasm for what type of tiles she might use in her bathroom, and the man just nodded, solemn laughs every few sentences.  
"Dean?" I heard a semi-familiar voice from in front of me, and looked up. Two bright blue eyes, slightly covered by blond hair stood about a foot from my legs.  
"Jordan, hey." She half smiled, and sat beside me, where I recognized her name on a sheet of cardstock.  
"You talk to her?" She was staring at Elise and Adam and the guy from before, all talking, sort of "happily".  
"Yeah I uhh-"  
"It's fucked isn't it," I kind of shook my head, out of disbelief.  
"Sam says it's coping," she sighed and looked at me.  
"Yeah that's what Adam said," she looked down.  
"What did your mom say?" She chuckled and looked back up at them.  
"She's more shaken than any of em,"  
I shook my head.  
"I saw her a few days ago, she looked messed up," I stopped and she shook her head again.  
"Did you meet the kid?"  
"Yeah,"  
"She loved her?"  
"Of course, yeah she loved her so much," Jordan shook her head.  
"You don't even question it?" I looked up at her.  
"I mean, God man, she's not coping over there, she's compensating," I looked down, and then over at them.  
"Ellen wants to leave early," she shook her head and I heard her rattle her purse, but didn't look up.  
"You call her Ellen?" I finally said, softly.  
"Recently, yeah,"  
"Why?" I realized I was overstepping and sort of blushed.  
"She's been," Jordan shook her head and there was a short pause.  
"I got into a really nice college last month,"  
"Stanford, yeah Sam went there,"  
"Yeah, and she barely flinched when I told her. Not even a congratulations."  
"I'm sorry," she shook her head and kind of smiled.  
"She wants another kid, and it just-" I nodded.  
"I get it," she looked at me.  
"A replacement, yeah. I get it." She shook her head and smiled.  
She got up, and Ellen walked over, from her conversation and kissing on the cheek of someone I didn't know.  
"You know, she loves you. A fucking lot," she laughed, and then Ellen walked beside her and they left, and I watched them leave.  
The guy came over next to me about ten minutes after the whole reception, and he leaned back and crossed his legs, so comfortably it seemed.  
"Make yourself at home,"  
He laughed and I sort of blushed, but hid it well.  
"You're name's Dean, ah?" I looked up at him.  
"My name's Cas,"  
"Cas?" I was still stuck on the reason why they would be mentioning my name in conversation,  
"Yeah. Mother was going for Cassiel, like the angel of Tuesday, but didn't want to be obvious I guess," he sort of smiled and I laughed and leaned forward.  
"That's funny."  
"Yeah I try." He was chewing gum, and pulled out a packet, holding it out for me.  
"No," I shook my head, but watched him put it back in his pocket.  
"Is that," I sort of laughed, and he smiled a bit.  
"Nicotine gum, yeah. Don't tell,"  
"You smoke,"  
"Never," I shook my head and tried not to laugh, from how ridicule it all sounded.  
"Where are you from, Cas," I emphasized on his name,  
"Michigan,"  
"Michigan?"  
"Michigan."  
"Didn't Elise go to college in Oregon?"  
"Yes,"  
"So you moved all the way to Oregon for a shitty scholarship," I laughed, and he nodded.  
"Believe it or not. Most of it was to get out the family though," he sighed and leaned forward, face level to me. I leaned back a little and he did the same, making me half blush and him smile.  
"What about you?"  
"What about me," I sighed.  
"Your family," I pursed my lips and shook my head.  
"Boring, my brother's over there though so don't tell him." He smiled and waved at my brother, making me look and half blush when I realized Sam was watching us.  
"Where did you go to college,"  
"Oregon State,"  
"Yeah? Heard that's a good school,"  
"My brother went to Stanford," he blew hard out his nose in a laugh, and smiled, leaning back.  
"Thanks," I laughed,  
"No, I bet you're just as smart,"  
I rolled my eyes.  
"Probably not, though,"  
"No?" I looked up at him in a goofy smile, and he shook his head  
"Why you say that?"  
"The hot blonds are typically dumb,"


End file.
